A Question Of Fate
by homel001
Summary: *MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS* If you havent completed the game yet. Landon Ricketts pays his respects up at Beecher's Hope when he meets the mysterious Stranger who once warned John of his fate. Now after seeing visions of the future, Landon must decide whether to take revenge on Edgar Ross or leave it to a certain young Marston. rated K


Landon Ricketts – Question of Fate

By homel001

**Disclaimer: Red Dead Redemption belongs to Rockstar Games. The story is my idea and I've chosen to centre it on the legend that is Landon Ricketts. I've always wanted to write a piece on the character as he reminds me of either Lee Van Cleef's Angel Eyes or Jeff Bridges Rooster Cogburn. This is what the man gets up to after the events in Red Dead Redemption.**

**The Great Plains**

The wind provided a chilling sensation up on the plains as Landon Ricketts approached the desolate remains of the Beecher's Hope ranch. The place had been deserted since Jack Marston boarded up the place and fled for the eastern country. It had taken Landon days to get there as he rode endlessly across the country from his home at El Matadero. Ever since he read about the tragic events that unfolded in the news, Landon knew that he just had to pay his respects. He felt honoured that he was able to help John Marston during his time in Mexico. He also wished that he was around to save him from the government that fed him led. As he dismounted his horse, he decided to take a walk around the ranch on foot as he inhaled the stale air. He took a walk amongst the poorly maintained fields as he headed towards the run down stable. His eyes narrowed and a feeling of sorrow engulfed his body. There was still blood on the floor in the exact place where Marston fell.

He knelt down amongst the weeds and closed his eyes and performed the holy cross across his body. For the first time in a long time, he prayed that God was looking after him as he hoped to find the man who was responsible for the massacre. He knelt there silently as he paid his respects when suddenly; he was drawn to the sound of footsteps that came up behind him.

"It's sad isn't it? This place use to be a lovely home until this happened. Damn that John Marston. He was a fool, a man who got lucky half the time. He really thought he could start a new life and escape the madness he was put through. Unfortunately he was wrong, dead wrong. Now this place will remain closed until his son returns."

Landon turned round with a fierce look on his face. He didn't like the words he was hearing. As he turned to face the man, he was surprised when he saw a middle-aged man with a thick black moustache, stand directly behind him. The man was dressed in fancy threads with a spotless top hat and shoes. Landon couldn't help but feel a creepy aura about him as if he wasn't supposed to be there.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked as he stood up and brushed the dust off of his pants. "Don't you know you're trespassing?"

"That's funny. I should be saying that to you, Landon Ricketts." The stranger replied as he looked towards the house. "Well, well, well. I always wondered when I would run into you again."

"Do I know you?" Landon asked as his gruff voice sunk deeper. "I don't know how the hell you are, but you do not know me."

"Ah just like John himself." The stranger chuckled. "So naïve. My name is not important, but my presence is."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Landon replied as his hand hovered over his gun. "You seem too happy to be here when this is a time for mourning."

"I'm not happy." The stranger assured as he took a seat amongst the corn fields. "I've merely come to pay my respects too and to give you a mere warning. See Landon, I can see minds, feel what others feel, know what things are about to happen. Revenge is a predictable trait in the human soul and I must say that it is not your place to go and avenge John's death."

"What makes you think I want revenge?" Landon countered as he sat down next to the stranger and gazed up at the house. "I mean look at me. I'm an old timer who's on his last legs. I'm not fit to go out into the great unknown and shoot a federal agent. Perhaps your so called senses are wrong."

"I'm not a fool, Landon." The stranger replied. "I know what you're thinking and what you're true intentions are. Sure death is an evil pain in one's heart, but it's not your path to follow. Edgar Ross will die for what he has done, but it won't be by you."

"Then who?" Landon asked calling on the stranger's words. "Who else has the guts to take down a man with so much power and connections?"

"Jack Marston." The stranger replied. "John's son. He may have gone but I know in so many years, he will return a young man and he will follow in his father's footsteps."

"What if he chooses not to return to Mexico? Did you think about that?" Landon asked.

"It's not a matter of choice." The stranger went on. "It's a matter of fate. Jack's path has been set for him. He won't be able to find closure until he kills the man who took his father's life. If you interfere, you'll ruin his chance to end this dreadful curse on the family. Is that what you want?"

"I think you're talking bull crap friend." Landon sneered as he shook his head and picked himself off the ground. "I don't believe in fate or someone's path to happiness. Marston's son has left for a reason. To escape the life he has had here. I'm going to make this easy for him."

"Obviously, I can't stop you." The stranger said as he turned to walk in the opposite direction. "But if you do kill Ross, it'll be your fault and you'll be responsible for the path that that boy has taken."

Landon heard no more as he mounted his horse and swigged from his whiskey flask. As he glanced back one more time, the stranger had gone. Vanished.

As he tore through the fields down towards the seaside town of Blackwater, Landon played the previous conversation over in his mind. All this about fate and revenge, it was really getting to him. Once he arrived in town, he dismounted his horse and headed straight for the saloon in an attempt to wash away the thoughts. He ordered his favourite whiskey and slipped away into the shadows willing to forget.

The Night had arrived as the stars twinkled in the sky. Amongst the dimly lit candles, Landon still sat there motionless at his table as he stared into the remains of his drink. He was deep in thought as if his mind had ridden away into his subconscious. The locals were beginning to grow concerned as the old-timer appeared to be playing dead to them. To Landon, he was replying his conversation over and over again, memorising each detail and each word, piecing it all together and trying to make sense of it all. Eventually, his eyes widened as he snapped back into his conscious state. He realised. He knew what the stranger meant. It was fate. It was Jack Marston's destiny.

He finished his drink and finally headed out of the bar. As he gazed up at the stars, he knew that it was late and decided to call in at the hotel. Getting a room wasn't a problem and before he knew it, he had the best room in the whole building. He lay there on his bed as he stirred restlessly. He was so immersed in a dream that it almost became a vision. He could a man who looked like John, who was walking along by the San Luis River with blood on his clothes and holding a smoking revolver. He also saw a body which was floating down the river with blood stained clothes. Landon could see it clear as day. He awoke in a cold sweat just before he could get a look at the killers face. He sat upright, panting and reached for a glass of water. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to understand his vision. Did he see a premonition of the future?


End file.
